Right Kind of Wrong
by Hikuya
Summary: A Song fic. There had to be someone that liked Raistlin, right? OC. Status subject to change, it just depends on if people want more or not, so tell me.
1. Chapter 1

I heard this song, and thought of this on a whim. I do not own DragonLance, its fine and not so fine characters, nor do I own the song.

The song is "Right Kind of Wrong" By LeAnn Rhimes. Or however you spell her last name. Right, enjoy. Reviewing is also appreciated. I can, and might, write more if you so desire, but ya gotta tell me.

_Know all about, about your reputation_

_And how it's bound to be a heart break situation._

He never noticed. She was kind of glad for that. He didn't need to know. This was her secret, her crush. She thought he was the best looking boy in Solace, damn what the other people in town thought.

_But I can't help it if I'm helpless every time I'm where you are…_

_You walk in and my strength walks out the door._

She knew, or was fairly certain, that he didn't know she even existed, or if he did, he didn't remember her. Not many did. It wasn't her fault she'd been born with a weak heart and her family kept her locked up in her room all the time. She knew he was weak, like she was, but at least he could go outside. She was glad for that. The way the light shone on his auburn hair dazzled her every time.

_Say my name and I can't fight it anymore._

_Oh, I know I should go, but I need your touch just too damn much._

She remembered the first time she saw him. She gotten horribly sick, one of the maids had passed it on to her. She was delirious with a fever that was starting to get dangerously high. She had been fifteen at the time. The family doctor was away, so her parent's had had to send for the help of Mistress Meggin. And who should come with, but the one person in town who bothered to spend time with her?

_Lovin' you, yeah, isn't really something I should do._

_Shouldn't want to spend my time with you, yeah._

She didn't remember much of that encounter. Some sort of medicine being fed to her, gentle hands lifting her head up so she wouldn't choke on it. When she was finally coherent enough to make out her surroundings, she looked over to find the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen, staring intently at her. She felt as if those eyes could see every misfortune that had ever befallen her.

_Well, I should try to be strong, but baby, you're the right kind of wrong._

_Yeah, baby you're the right kind of wrong._

"How do you feel?" His voice was soft, but a bit raspy. Nothing much, but it still belied the signs of his own poor health. She managed to mutter out a positive reply, and he nodded, before pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. "You still have a fever, but you're out of danger, for now. Go back to sleep, you'll need it." With that, he turned and left the room. Ever since then, she had never forgotten how warm his hand had felt, how his eyes had dug into her soul. She sighed softly, hazel eyes softening with the sweet memory.

_Might be a mistake, a mistake I'm makin'._

_But what you're givin' I am happy to be takin'._

Every day, she sat by her window, watching and waiting. Twice a day, he would walk past her window on the walkway opposite of it. She lived for the moments when he would walk by, lost in thought or looking at some plant he had found. She knew he was training to become a mage, and she had no doubt that he would. Ever since she was little, she'd been able to feel things. There was nothing magical about it, merely her body trying to make up for its weakness. She knew when people were coming, could sometimes feel the presence of the recent dead. And she could feel his power. He would be powerful, no doubt about it.

'_Cus no one's ever made me feel the way that I feel when I'm in your arms._

Sighing again, she pushed an errant strand of dark blond hair behind her ear. In the winter it was just a light shade of brown, but in the warmer months the sun made it shine like old, melted gold. One day he would leave. Go and take his test at the Tower of High Sorcery. He might never return to Solace again. Would she be able to handle that? She knew she would have to. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar white robe. Turning her head, she felt her face flush with joy.

_They say you're something I should do without._

_They don't know what goes on when the lights go out._

He was staring intently at the walkway boards, not paying any attention. He looked so handsome when he did that. Her happiness soon turned to anger. Someone else was on the walkway. Miranda. She glared at the offending girl. She had a smirk on her face, a gleam in her eye that betrayed her intentions. Anger soon turned to dismay. Even Raistlin, (she blushed as she even thought his name) had fallen under that witch's spell. Almost every man in Solace had fallen head over heels for her honey blond hair and latest fashions. She was going to hurt him. That bitch was going to lead him on, she felt it. Even as she did, she wanted to stop it.

_There's no need to explain._

_All the pleasure is worth all the pain._

She watched the exchange between the two, saw how Raistlin stumbled over his usually glib tongue. They were soon out of sight, going after the fallen cloth. Tears welled in her eyes, and she lowered her head onto her arms, letting the breeze play through her hair. Don't let him be hurt, she pleaded. She didn't want to see him suffer anymore, not after his parents' death. Not after the Widow Judith. She cried, her tears not of her own pain, but of fear for the white apprentice who had a death grip on her heart.

_I should try to run,_

_But I just can't seem to._

It was late that night when she saw him. She'd pretended to fall asleep to please her ever worrisome parents. But now she sat up in her bed, leaning on the window sill, the light of Lunitari shining on down on the earth. She knew why he was going, saw it in his steps. Oh no, her mind whispered. She'd seen Miranda slip off with someone else, a someone else that no one could mistake for anyone but Caramon Majere. She sat up straight. Her worst fears realized, she came to a decision. She would go to him. The wounds to his heart would be deep, and he may not even want her there. But still, she had to. She had to go and tell him that he wasn't alone. Tell him everything, all her hopes and fears, her reasons why she'd never spoken up before. But most of all, to be there for him. So he wouldn't have to cry alone, like she knew he probably had. Like her.

'_Cus every time I run, _

_You're the one I run to._

By the time she'd slipped out of the house, making sure to alert no one, not much of a feat, considering her incredibly slight, slim build, she could see him below, near the clothier's shed. She started walking as fast as she dared and saw him move away swiftly, in pain. He stormed up the steps and off in the complete opposite direction of the couple in the shed. She tried to catch up, but his rage fueled his strength. She managed to keep up for awhile, but lost him somewhere in the darker part of town.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She had failed him. The one person she had ever wanted to help, who hadn't seen her as merely a pretty, useless decoration, had vanished. She leaned her back against the tree trunk, slowly sliding down the rough surface, until she sat with her knees tucked up against her chest, arms wrapped around them, face buried in shame.

_Can't do without,_

_What you do to me._

She didn't know how long she sat there, alone, tears falling, staining the long sleeves of her hastily put on dress. She didn't feel the warm spring breeze wrapping around her, and didn't notice the approach of a very drunk man. She only noticed when one of her arms was grabbed and she was abruptly yanked up right. The blast of stench hit her like a two ton block of granite and she nearly passed out.

"Well, ain'tcha a purty little thing. What're yew doin' al'lone? Need a bit o' comp'ny?" He leered at her, intentions perfectly clear. Now she was scared. She didn't want to do ANYTHING with this man, much less what he was suggesting. The drunk pinned her to the very tree she'd been leaning against, and started pawing at the buttons keeping it shut. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see to horrid grin and ugly gleam in her attacker's eyes. Messy kisses were trailed down the skin of her neck, and revulsion shook her whole being. She pulled in a breath of air, ready to scream, when a flash of metal shone in the blood red light. "Now, now. Don' go ruinin' our little pardy. Scream, an' I'll hafta slit yer loverly little throat." The knife nicked her throat, a single bead of blood slipping down, sliding between the valley of her breasts. Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back, not wanting the hideous excuse for a human being to see them. She had her pride.

_I don't care if I'm in too deep, yeah…_

Soft footsteps padded down the wooden walkway. Her eyes opened wide and her heart filled with hope. Turning to her right, she saw one of the most welcome sights ever.

"Raistlin…" she breathed, hardly daring to hope it was true. Once more, his eyes locked with hers, and the fresh pain he'd just experienced showed, though he tried to hide it. The man that had, so far, been molesting her, turned toward the intruder.

"Wha'd you want, twiggy? Me an' this lady here is havin' a right fine time, sho you c'n jus' bugger off'n fergit you saw anythin'." Ice blue eyes narrowed at the inebriated cutthroat. Glaring in annoyance, he pulled out some rose petals. Crushing them to dust, he threw them at the drunk, speaking the words of magic.

"_Ast tasarak sinuralan kyrnawi."_ The man was out like a candle light. She stepped over the snoring man, unconsciously wrapping her arms around herself. Now that she was safe, the fear set in. Trembling like a leaf, the tears she'd been holding back resurfaced. She scrubbed at her eyes, not wanting her savior to see her tears. She fumbled with the buttons on her dress, remember her modesty, in lieu of remembering the recent event.

_Lovin' you, yeah, isn't really somethin' I should do._

_Shouldn't want to spend my time with you._

Realizing that she must appear very rude, she finished buttoning the dress, and turned to face the love of her life. She turned a bit quickly and didn't notice his proximity until she bumped right into him. She looked up into his passive face, utterly mortified.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run into you. I-thank you, thank you for helping me." She blushed furiously as his eyes continued to bore into her own.

"What were you doing out here? I though your parents never let you out of your room, much less the house." He asked her silently, though his voice seemed to vibrate down into her very bones. How had he known? Had he remembered her?

"I-uh, well, to be honest, I…" She steeled herself for the task ahead. Looking up at him, he was a bit taller than her, she looked him straight in the eye. No tricks, no lies, she wanted him to see she meant everything she was about to say. "I came because I didn't want you to be alone." There. It was out. Her deepest secret was out in the open. His eyes widened. She knew what he must be thinking. He must be thinking of how this was probably just another plan to hurt him. She took a small step back to give him some room. She needed to continue, needed to get it out. This was her only chance. Her window of opportunity was here, and she needed to use it.

_Well, I should try to be strong, but baby, you're the right kind of wrong._

_Yeah, baby, you're the right kind of wrong._

"Ever since you helped get rid of my fever four years ago, you've been the only thing I've looked forward to seeing. You walk across the bridge opposite my house everyday. Those are the times I look forward to most. You know I'm always stuck in that room, no one knowing I'm there, no one to talk to. No one there to comfort me when the crushing loneliness set in. My family sees me as, as, as nothing more than a blemish. They say I'm pretty, but they shun me as surely as if I had the plague. Only you never looked at me with pity. You understand what it's like. My parent's probably told you of my condition, why I got so sick from a simply cold. I am _weak_, I always will be. You knew that. I could see it in your eyes. And that's why you brought me such happiness. There was someone who didn't see me as an invalid, or a nice decoration. And to be totally honest," she turned bright red but kept looking him straight in the eye "I actually think you're…very handsome." She blurted out the last bit in a rush.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke again, still not done baring her soul. "I know that people think you're weak, but you're not. I can feel the power. It's wound tightly into your presence. I know I'm weak, that I won't amount to much, but…but just once, I want to help the person I care for the most." She felt the tears coming again, but she fiddled with her sleeves, trying to keep them at bay just a little longer. "I know you won't believe, I know you don't now. I am pretty certain that you may never believe any of the things I'm telling you. I never expected you to. I just wanted to make sure that I could tell you. I don't know how much longer I'm going to live. My heart may give out in a few minute, a few hours, a few days, weeks, months, maybe years if I'm incredibly lucky." She stopped, collecting herself from her love crazed ranting. Trying to get her rapid breathing and thundering heart under control, she finally calmed down.

He hadn't said anything yet. He hadn't moved closer or farther away, which she took as a positive sign. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, silent under the setting red moon. Only one last thing to say, one last thing, and it will all be over, for better or for worse. She reached out a hand, and grasped one of his. He started to pull back, tugging his hand out of her reach, but her other hand folded around it. She held one of the hands she'd so often seen, slim, delicate, tapering hands. Lacing her fingers over the top of the trapped limb, she held it close to her heart. Gazing up at the blue eyes that had held her heart captive behind their icy aloofness for so long, she admitted her hearts greatest secret, and its greatest pain.

_Right kind of wrong…_

"I…I love you, Raistlin Majere."

_Right kind of wrong…_

His eyes said nothing, gave nothing away. She felt the sorrow she knew would come enter into her soul. She gently squeezed his hand, then gently let it go. She spoke no more, she didn't need to. Her eyes told him everything, revealed all the truths hidden in her rushed words. One hand slid out, unconsciously wanting to touch the long hair, the fingers knowing how soft it must be, before pulling back, never reaching their goal. She bowed to the ever more powerful aspiring mage, then slowly turned away, walking towards her home in the not quite light before dawn.

_Right kind of wrong…_

She slipped into her house, everyone still unaware, to her surprise. She undid the dress and hung it back on its hanger. Then, tugging on her night gown, she sat on her bed, before tucking herself under the covers, and letting the tears fall. The sun rose and shone onto her, turning her hair to the color of blood drenched gold…

_Yeah, baby, you're the right kind of wrong._

Well, hope you liked it. Please review. It doesn't take that much time out of your busy lives. Thank you very much.


	2. Chapter 2

Author: I'm back! Aren't I wonderful? Yes, my dears, I have heard your cries! Here it is, the long awaited chapter two! There were originally three chapters, but I felt I needed to get the second one out. I had a bad case of writer's block, you see. But here, it is done! Please, feast your eyes, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own DL, nor do I own this song. I don't know if the song belongs to Rimes or to another guy, cus I don't know who wrote it first. But, whoever did, it wasn't me. So, kindly don't sue me…Please?

Chapter Two: Born to Lose

_Born to lose,_

_I've lived my life in vain._

He never walked by anymore…It happened a month or two after the incident. She winced at the memory. She'd gotten back in, and a day later she was, once again, deathly ill. All the while, she'd been taken care of by the family doctor. Whenever she was awake and coherent, she would wish that the eyes she woke up to were ice blue, instead of warm brown. What she wouldn't give for one last glimpse of his face.

_Every dream I dreamed_

_Has only brought me pain_

Finally, she was well again. However, her parents kept an even closer eye on her. There was always a maid present, and at night the door was always locked. Her only respite lay in the open window at her bedside, her only link to the world outside her bedroom. She sat there, day after day, simply watching. Waiting. Hoping beyond hope that he would appear. But it was all for not.

_All my life, I've always been so blue._

But now, now. There was no escape anymore. No more hope. Her family had decided to move to Palanthas. A new religious sect had popped up there, and her parents wished to go and see if her heart could be healed by the leaders of the new religion. She, herself, thought it was nothing but a farce. There had been no true healing since the days before the Cataclysm. It was folly to believe in such miracles now.

_Born to lose, _

_And now I'm losing you._

The moving day was set. The bags packed, the carts loaded. She, as well as her mother, were to ride in their own carriage. Standing on the shores of Crystalmir Lake for the last time, she felt her eyes well with tears. Having hidden them from all for almost a year, she let the salty water free. As they slid down her face, she whispered her goodbyes. To this place, her home. To the grand trees and the kind people. To the fairs and the festivals.

But most of all, and most importantly, she said farewell to him. The only man she'd ever loved, the only person to understand. As she uttered her sad departure, her mind was filled with him. His eyes, his hair, his walk, his face. Every minute detail was dredged up, scorched into the halls of her memory. Her only wish that day, was that he at least remembered what she said, if not she herself. If he remembered about her even half of what she did of him, she would die happy.

_Born to lose, _

_It seems so hard to bear_

It seemed so long ago. Those days of dappled sunlight and whispered breezes. She no longer remembered how long she had been in this city of stone and mortar. Was it five years? Eight? No matter. The days and years all blurred into one, monotonous blur, an unbroken parade of doctors, clerics, well wishers, and, of course, suitors.

Not that she ever accepted any of the last ones, oh no. She could not accept their amorous advances, for her heart still lay with him, her blue eyed mage. The years away from him had taken a toll on her weary soul. No longer could she seem to smile or laugh. The gleam of life had left her eyes, leaving her dull and broken. She spoke no more than a word or two, if that.

All of her time was spent in her garden, when she could escape. It was technically her family's, but she cared for this small piece of it as if it were her own child. This garden had no beautiful flowers or delicate fountains. Her garden was of a far more practical, and meaningful, kind.

Her garden was an herb garden. She had insisted upon keeping it up herself, even on the days when she seemed to ill to stay awake, much less traipse about outside. She had somehow begged one of the many doctors to teach her the ways of herb lore, and she had learned much. Every time she learned something new about her precious plants, she felt a step closer to her beloved.

_How I long to always have you near_

She paid special attention to the marjoram. She knew that he and this plant had been named after the same, old, god. She had made a study of the olden lore, to go along with her lonely days of unguided solitude. She knew that he wished to try and find the true religion, true healing. She prayed he would, since it would make him happy.

_You've grown tired, and now you say we're through  
Born to lose, and now I'm losing you._

Apparently there was a war going on. Not that anyone in Palanthas cared. They were all immune behind their city walls and Solamnic citadel. Only she cared and worried. These rumblings of war meant no good for any, and it frightened her. Oh, how it terrified her.

And so she made medicines, sending them to those that would take them and give them out as needed. She was getting more and more ill, weaker and weaker, as the days passed on. She worked feverishly, hoping to do some good with the time left her on the earth.

It was on a night of darkness when the bard appeared. He claimed to have word of a band of heroes, battling against the growing darkness of Takhisis. Yes, that name was well known now, not obscure as it had been in the last five hundred years.

_Born to lose, I've lived my life in vain  
Every dream I dreamed has only brought me pain_

He said that this band of gallant warriors had done what no others had dared to. They defeated the Red Ruler at Pax Tharkas, and had found true healing! The Gods of Good, Paladine and Mishakal, were on the spread, reaching out to every corner of the land.

In this group, he told, was a half elf, a dwarf, a kender, two barbarians, an elven princess, and two humans, one a warrior, the other a mage. The names of the troupe went ignored by her ears as she sat in no small shock at one single name.

Raistlin. Raistlin Majere and his brother, Caramon, were the humans battling the darkness. No longer blue eyed and white robed, Raistlin now had golden, hour glass eyes that saw not but death, with shock white hair and golden skin. Red robes now adorned his shoulders, and he carried with him the staff of Magus. Somehow, on hearing these words, she was comforted.

She had been right. He was strong, stronger than any before. His name would be whispered on in the ages to come, word of his might stretching on into infinity. She cared not for the fate of the world, only for his.

_All my life, _

_I've always been so blue._

He was here. In this city. She could feel him. Pacing her garden, hair whipping behind her, she desperately wished her sixth sense was stronger. She knew he was there, but knew not where! It drove her to the brink of madness.

She cursed the marble walls that held her captive, and kept her from tearing the city to pieces in her search. After all these years, she had thought the feelings dampened, deadened, gone. But they were not.

The minute she felt him there, in Palanthas, they had burst into flame again, like a phoenix. He heart raced and her face flushed. She could not bear to be away from him any longer. Just one last glimpse, one final look at him, and she would be satisfied. But, no. It was not to be.

She had to do something, anything, to get these passions out. Rushing to her chambers, she pulled out paper and a quill, and began to write. Every feeling, every thought, every memory went onto those pages. She told him everything. Her pain, her loneliness, her agony, and her love. Love that only he would ever have, however unworthy she was to give such to him.

She finished, and signed the last page. Finding an envelope, she sealed her letter closed with her own, personal, seal. It was a rose, surrounded by a ring of knives. It was her seal, whether it matched or not.

She took up a small box, carved from a vallenwood, one of her last memoirs of a forgotten time and place. Setting the thick envelope inside it, she returned to her precious garden. Digging for a bit, she buried all of those precious words underneath the marjoram, a place that no one, but the precious few, would know and understand. She smiled, her first smile in so many years.

Then she felt the burning in her chest, the dull ache of her life's end. She begged to every old god she knew, cried out for just a little bit more time, not even a day. Suddenly, one of the maids appeared at her side.

_Born to lose_

_And now I'm losing you._

"T-tell…h-him…" she whispered, the edges of her vision fading to darkness. She thought she heard the maid asking who to tell what. Her hand reached out, and grabbed the woman's shirt in a surprisingly strong grip.

"R-raist…lin…T-tell…t-the marjoram…" she choked out. There was not much time left. So little time. Her mind begged the gods for any amount of mercy. The maid looked unsure of what to do. Her grip tightened.

"Swear!" she gasped out. "Swear to…tell…h-him…marjoram…" her grip was loosening, not just on the shirt in her hand, but on her life. Finally, the oath was sworn. The woman would tell her beloved where her feelings lay. Smiling, she finally let go, and fell into darkness.

_Born to lose_

_And now I'm losing you._

Author: And there you have it! There is a third chapter, my dears, but it's still in the works. Seriously. Hopefully this chapter has pleased you, my beloved fans, even if it is depressing. The third chapter is happier, I swear! This was all part and parcel of the original plot, so please don't injure me! If you injure me, you won't know what happens in the next chapter! So, you know what you SHOULD do? Review! That's right! If you review, I'll love you all truly, madly, and deeply. Do it, do it, do it! Goodnight, my dears!


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